


even if it makes me blue

by helloearthlings



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkwardness, Blind Date, First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 17:30:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20393485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloearthlings/pseuds/helloearthlings
Summary: Sammy’s been out to his friends for two weeks, and they’ve honestly been too supportive, in his correct opinion. Which is how he got in this blind date mess in the first place.“I’m really sorry,” Jack says again, and Sammy can’t read his tone but is sure it’s nothing good, “the bus was just –”“I don’t really care,” Sammy can’t even pretend to be polite right now. “I have to go.”





	even if it makes me blue

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be the shortest thing I could work on. Which, it probably was, all things considered.
> 
> So I'm about a wee out from my last semester of school starting, where I'll have a full class load, be writing a thesis, and have two jobs. I definitely will not be a regular poster coming up - and if I am, tell me to stop!! I hope to write a little fic, but my two jobs are both writing positions and therefore, I might have very little motivation to keep writing. 
> 
> So hopefully I'll post something every few weeks or so - but probably, hopefully, smaller things. Maybe. If I'm capable. Enjoy this one!

Sammy watches the clock on his pone starting at four o’clock, keeping careful track of each time the seconds ticked by. The numbers go up and up and up, then starting over again, and Sammy’s heart doesn’t stop hammering the whole time.

_I’ll give up after fifteen minutes, _Sammy thinks miserably to himself when ten minutes pass and his date hasn’t shown up yet.

But now it’s been twenty and leaving feels so much like a failure – but staying feels equally as self-flagellating.

What is it about Sammy specifically that makes it so, so easy for guys to stand him up?

This has to be the seventh or eighth time now. (It’s the eighth, Sammy’s brain unhelpfully reminds him.) Some had been first dates, some fifth, some had been nearly relationships, and Sammy still somehow manages to feel wounded.

Maybe this time it’s because this guy is a friend of Troy’s. And Sammy hadn’t expected anything great from Troy’s insistence on setting him up – he’s perfectly aware that this guy and Sammy are probably the only two gay people that Troy knows – but he’d at least expected someone morally upright who wouldn’t just _not show. _

At least Sammy’s just sitting in a coffee shop instead of a restaurant, at least he’s under no obligation to stay, at least he can get the hell out of here and no one will notice anything had been the matter.

Sammy takes a few seconds to angrily wipe at his eyes – honestly, his eyes should be just as used to this kind of bullshit as his brain is – and gets up out of the corner table to leave. He purposefully moves as quickly as he can, not bothering to watch where he’s going –

And then he manages runs into someone headlong in the doorway, because this is just his fucking day.

“Oh, God, I’m sorry,” the guy in the doorway reaches a hand out to steady him, and –

Oh no.

The guy’s black wavy hair and broad shoulders absolutely match the picture Troy had shown him yesterday when he created this monstrosity of a situation Sammy was in now.

“Oh, I think I’m supposed to be meeting you?” The guy asks, blinking a few times at Sammy. Sammy recognizes that blink. The blink of disappointment. Sammy can’t deal with that blink today. “Sorry I’m late, I –”

“I’ve gotta go,” Sammy cuts him off, and the guy’s eyes widen. His name’s Jack, Sammy remembers. Ben had leaned over his shoulder when Troy showed him the picture. _He’s really cute! _Ben shoved Sammy’s shoulder pointedly.

Sammy’s been out to his friends for two weeks, and they’ve honestly been _too _supportive, in his correct opinion. Which is how he got in this blind date mess in the first place. 

“I’m really sorry,” Jack says again, and Sammy can’t read his tone but is sure it’s nothing good, “the bus was just –”

“I don’t really care,” Sammy can’t even pretend to be polite right now. “I have to go.”

“Can I –” Jack’s still standing in the doorway. Sammy can’t get around him without shoving. He might have to, if it comes to that. “Can I at least buy you a coffee?”

Sammy starts to scoff, but Jack quickly adds “I don’t have to stick around. I think I’ve obviously blown my chance here. I just want to find a way to, um, to apologize. I can just leave when I pay. I really am _so _sorry.”

“Fine,” Sammy sighs, only because Jack’s still in the doorway, shifting guiltily with a red flush on his neck. He does seem to genuinely feel bad, but Sammy can’t really appreciate that. Everyone feels guilty when they’re caught.

There’s no line, and Sammy mutters his order of a large latte – might as well get the biggest size if he’s not the one paying for it. Jack hands the cashier the money, and then turns to Sammy with wide eyes. Sammy just stares back, because he honestly does not have the patience for whatever he’s about to say.

“I didn’t want to be late, I had to wait forever for a bus. I really didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, but I totally get why you’re angry,” Jack says, and if this wasn’t the ninth time this had happened, Sammy would’ve probably been swayed to forgive him. As it stands though, Sammy’s put up with way too much bullshit to think this can be going anywhere. “I just – I’m really –”

“You should probably go before you apologize again,” Sammy says, his voice softening inadvertently a bit. The guy might not deserve this, but Sammy’s not putting himself through sitting here with Jack for another hour when there’s a very solid chance that Jack didn’t want to be here in the first place. “It was just a blind date anyway. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, I really am –” Jack relents when Sammy raises an eyebrow, and then the barista calls Sammy’s name for his drink. “Alright, you’d better get that. I’ll just, um, go.”

Jack has big brown eyes that are almost puppy dog like, but he doesn’t do anything but blink apologetically a few more times before hurrying out of the coffee shop. Sammy notices how he’s still flushed even now.

Sammy takes his drink from the counter, not relaxing but feeling some tension bleed away anyway. He’s glad Ben’s not here – Ben would beg him to give Jack a chance, say that Jack seemed really sorry and it was probably a total accident.

Ben’s too trusting, generally speaking. He’s also been too willing to talk to Sammy about boys in the last two weeks, which has already been stressful enough without heaping a blind date on top of it.

At least it’s over now. Sammy didn’t even have to talk to the guy, really. This is all probably for the best. Sammy managed to realize right away that this isn’t a guy worth his time, even if he does feel a bit guilty over not even letting the guy get out his excuses.

Not guilty enough to do anything about it other than sit uncomfortably in his corner booth for ten minutes with his drink and stew before he decides it’s been enough time and he can probably just go.

When he gets home way too early, he’ll come up with some excuse to Ben about it not working out.

He won’t tell Troy that his friend had shown up late and Sammy brushed him off, though. Jack probably doesn’t deserve Troy thinking any less of him, even if Sammy certainly doesn’t think much of the guy. He’ll just tell Troy that they didn’t have anything in common, because it probably would’ve been true if Sammy _had _given Jack a chance.

Sammy takes a long sip of his latte before he leaves the coffee shop, and a blast of icy air hits him on the way out the door. It’s a block and a half to the closest bus stop – if it was summer, he could walk home, but it’s over a mile to his apartment and the dead of winter is closing in. 

Sammy realizes when he turns the corner that the bus stop is more crowded than it usually is, maybe a dozen people milling around. Usually, the stop is pretty dead this far from campus.

The crowd doesn’t stop Sammy from noticing, with apprehension and a touch of nausea, that Jack’s standing slightly apart from the bench and the small crowd that’s accumulated there. His hoodie is up and he’s looking down, so Sammy might be able to pretend he didn’t see him and walk on by –

But then Jack’s eyes go from his phone to Sammy in an instant of recognition.

Sammy notices, with a seized up chest, that Jack’s eyes are red-ringed. It’s probably not because the air is fifteen degrees chillier than yesterday and he’s only wearing a sweatshirt.

“Hi,” Sammy slows his pace when he’s a couple feet away, hand curling around the latte Jack bought. He takes a long drink while he thinks of something to say, but he knows instinctively this is going to be one of the most awkward conversations in the history of his life.

“Hey,” Jack’s smile is tight, and yeah, yeah, his voice is probably just as watery as Sammy’s was when he ran into him in the doorway. “The bus is late.”

“Picked up on that, yeah,” Sammy nods at the crowd. “Um – you were probably telling the truth, then. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, I get it, I’d be pissed if I were you,” Jack says, even though Sammy’s quite sure he probably wouldn’t have been. “I just – I hate the thought of you hating me? I know we don’t know each other, but still. I’m glad I have the chance to explain. I wanted to message you, but Troy never gave me your number, and the Internet on my phone has been _so _wonky lately. This is probably my motivation to go get that fixed, I guess. I can’t even look up the stupid bus schedule to see how long this is gonna go on.”

Jack gestures at the crowded stop, and Sammy feels a heavy twinge of guilt.

“Here,” Sammy digs his phone out, hoping that this small favor will be enough to make him feel a little better about brushing Jack off for what is almost certainly an honest accident. He goes on the city’s website, and then winces when he sees the memo that immediately pops up when he clicks on Route 2. “Um, it looks like there was an accident downtown because it’s so icy. All bus routes from there delayed forty minutes.”

“Jesus,” Jack bites his lip. Sammy wishes he’d grabbed a hat and gloves when he left this morning, since it seems like he’ll be walking home. “Guess I’m glad I got on the bus in time to catch you before you left, at least, so I could apologize fifty times. Otherwise I’d have to tell Troy to apologize for me, and I’d have to deal with knowing I pissed you off _and _disappointed him.”

Jack shudders, and Sammy laughs despite himself. “I get it. Fear of disappointing Troy is a regular feature of knowing and dealing with his complete genial perfection on a day to day basis.”

“He seemed really excited about setting us up,” Jack says, and a bitter and small smile twists at his lips. “Um. When you inevitably tell him how I fucked up, will you please make me sound stupid instead of mean? I know those are my only two options, and stupid is definitely preferable.”

“You’re not either,” Sammy assures him, wondering when he came to that full conclusion, and then his mouth works faster than his brain when he says, “You just aren’t the first guy I’ve known who was late, and none of them had a decent excuse.”

Sammy quickly adds, so he doesn’t have to get emotional or anything crazy like that, “It’s just a pet peeve now. I’m sure if you’d been meeting someone who wasn’t me, they would’ve given you the benefit of the doubt. I just don’t have much of that left.”

Jack purses his lips together, and Sammy can tell how bad Jack feels by the big brown eyes growing twice in size. Fuck, he’s – look, Sammy had been sure when he saw Jack’s picture that this wouldn’t end well, but Sammy can appreciate Jack’s good looks for a couple seconds and it won’t kill him.

“I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but that _does _make it worse,” Jack says, and Sammy notices that he’s flushing again, though that might just be the cold. “I should’ve thought it through a little more and texted Troy to get your number. I just didn’t think. I know I’ve said it too much, but I really am _extremely _sorry. You seem like a really nice guy, and you don’t deserve anyone standing you up, intentional or otherwise.”

“Honestly, Jack, don’t worry about it,” Sammy says, and Jack’s eyes soften slightly when he uses his name. “I’m not even going to count this on the list, alright?”

“There’s a _list_?” Jack groans, wincing in a way Sammy would usually think was exaggerated. “Well, I’ll trade off and put this on my list of shitty things I inadvertently did. That’s a relatively long list, but this _does _make my top ten.”

“It’s fine,” Sammy says, mostly on reflex, but he also does actually mean it. He’s not going to remember this as something horrible that happened to him, only something awkward and accidental that could’ve been avoided. He won’t remember bad intentions, and that’s the label Sammy would slap on nearly every date he’s ever been on, whether they showed up or not. He can’t share that with Jack, though, so instead he says “What I’ll remember most about today is how annoying it was to stand in the cold for forty minutes waiting for a bus, not you.”

“Reassuring, I guess,” Jack chuckles under his breath, and eyes the bus stop. A bigger throng has grown since Sammy arrived, and there’s a lot of hushed, angry whispering and cross expressions underneath the hoods and hats.

Sammy’s too busy focusing on the growing crowd to really process it when Jack says “Hey. So. You can totally say no – and I know I already blew my chance of anything ever happening with us. This is totally just as friends. Acquaintances even. Two people who don’t want to stand in the cold for another forty minutes. But there’s an art museum? About two blocks from here. They do free Thursday nights. If coffee went well, I was gonna ask if you wanted to go with me – and I know coffee obviously _did not _go well. But –”

Jack bites his lip, and he looks over nervous and expectant of an answer. Sammy’s throat dries up slightly, not quite knowing what he’s going to say.

Jack’s been nicer than Sammy expected, but he also ducked below Sammy’s lowest bar before they’d even met, and that’s not really something Sammy can recover from. Still, he believes Jack when he says he doesn’t have any expectation here, romantic or otherwise.

Plus, it’s really fucking cold.

“I can call my friend for a ride, but he’s still in class for another two hours,” Sammy says slowly and Jack blinks at him, clearly still waiting for an answer. “I’m sure he could give you a ride back to campus too, but – I mean – I’d rather wait in a building that has heating, and an art museum sounds….nice.”

Jack’s smile flashes just slightly, and Sammy notices for the first time that he has dimples. It’s very unfair, and Sammy sort of hates him for it, but Jack’s smile is also nicer than it has the right to be.

“Okay,” Jack says, obviously pleased. “You don’t have to give me a ride, though. I can beg one off of my sister once she’s off work. But as long as we’re both stuck for a little longer –”

“Lead the way,” Sammy gestures at the sidewalk, and Jack’s beam is brilliant as they begin to walk away from the ever-growing crowd of annoyed commuters.

They walk quietly for a while, making occasional small talk about how bad the winter is here this year. Sammy’s never been to the art museum in this area before, but the building does look vaguely familiar as they approach. He’s not really an art person, but it’s a relief to go inside where there’s heat. 

Jack makes a few comments about the art pieces as they start to walk through, walking a respectable distance apart while still remaining mostly next to each other. He clearly has a few more thoughts and feelings on modern art than Sammy, so he lets Jack talk while he nods.

“So how do you know Troy?” Sammy figures he might as well just make first date talk, even though this isn’t a date anymore. Still, he sort of can’t help but wish that Jack had been exactly on time and thoroughly charmed Sammy, and they came here after spending hours at the café.

It’s a stupid wish, especially since Sammy could very well just decide that this can be a date – but then again, he has too many hang-ups preventing him from making that call. He’s sure they’re both better off this way.

“I shared an elective class with him last year, and then we realized that we went to the same gym,” Jack explains, and alright, that explains why his arms are so nice to look at. “So now we’re workout buddies. We get lunch most weekends. He’s a really great guy, it’s impossible not to be friends with him.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sammy chuckles, and Jack raises an eyebrow expectantly, clearly asking the same question. “He and my best friend Ben are really old friends. Grew up together.”

“Is that his _little buddy Benny_?” Jack’s impression of Troy’s southern drawl is teasing but clearly affectionate, and Sammy nods as he laughs.

“Unfortunately for Ben, who hates being called Benny,” Sammy tells him, and he and Jack wander together out of one gallery room and into the next without stopping. It feels sort of natural, though. “Troy gets away with it because he’s….well, Troy.”

“The nicest man on the planet, yes, I’m familiar,” Jack says. “Not to bring up a sore subject, but that’s why I went along with the blind date – it’s usually really not my thing. But I couldn’t tell Troy no when he seemed so excited about it.”

“I’m pretty sure we’re the only gay guys he knows,” Sammy says, and can’t help but automatically lower his voice slightly. Jack seems to notice if the tilt of his head is anything to go by, but he doesn’t comment. “That’s, um. That’s – I just – I just came out to him. And Ben. And Ben’s girlfriend Emily. I’d never really….told anyone before. They’re all going overboard to be supportive right now.”

“Oh,” Jack’s eyes widen, and Sammy takes note of the way his shoulders scrunch together just slightly in a physical reaction. “That’s – yeah, that’s gotta be stressful.”

“I’m glad they’re so good about it,” Sammy says quickly, not wanting to sound ungrateful. He doesn’t know anything about Jack’s experiences with telling people, or not telling people. He doesn’t want to assume. “It’s just – a lot. Ben especially. He wants to talk about my childhood trauma and every boy I’ve ever liked, and I don’t really wanna relive all of that.”

“I get it,” Jack says, and then makes a face. “Well, not entirely. I’ve told some friends, but not – not in a big _coming out _moment. Just offhandedly. And I’m really only super close with my sister, who got to witness firsthand my entire childhood trauma and all of the boys I’ve liked. Still, I do understand how rough it is, that transition of people knowing now.”

“It sucks,” Sammy acknowledges with a tight throat, not wanting to expand on exactly why. “Troy obviously doesn’t understand my reticence, but he was so excited when he said he had someone to set me up with – I couldn’t really tell him he was overstepping.”

“And then I totally made everything worse,” Jack fills in with a self-deprecating tone, and seems like he’s going to make another comment at his expense, but Sammy cuts him off.

“You’re better than I expected,” Sammy says and Jack raises an incredulous eyebrow. “Well, you absolutely weren’t at first. But you’ve redeemed yourself, alright? Getting stranded at a bus stop puts things in perspective.”

“Alright,” Jack says in a dubious, disbelieving tone. Sammy’s telling the truth though, mainly because he knows at this point that Jack really doesn’t expect Sammy to forgive him. That somehow makes it easier to let it go, actually. Jack’s not really working for anything here, Sammy’s pretty sure, just trying to not feel like a dick.

“Seriously,” Sammy says a little more forcefully. “I was expecting to be making awkward, stilted small talk with a guy I had nothing in common with and lying to Troy about it being fine. Now I can at least say I had a memorable time, if nothing else. I definitely wasn’t expecting to end up in an art gallery.”

Not that Sammy’s paying any attention to the art. He doesn’t think Jack is either. They’re just leisurely walking and talking as they wind their way through the paintings and sculptures that Sammy won’t try to understand.

“I’m here a lot,” Jack admits. “I’m an art history major, which I know is about the most boring and useless thing to say to someone to make them thinking you’re interesting or charming –”

Sammy smiles unwittingly. “Anthropology. I usually have to start by explaining what the word even means.”

Jack laughs. “Alright, so maybe you get it. I’ve gone out with too many STEM guys who just make jokes about how they’ll be rich and I’ll be unemployed when I try to talk about my classes.”

“Gross,” Sammy wrinkles his nose, but that’s happened to him on multiple occasions now, too. “My longest boyfriend majored in business marketing, and wouldn’t shut up about it. The second I tried to bring up one of my classes, he told me that he didn’t have the brain space for something so inconsequential.”

“Fuck him,” Jack says immediately with force, and Sammy smiles.

Sammy thought he had no interest whatsoever in talking about his dating history – Ben had asked often enough recently, and Sammy wanted to throw up every time – but he doesn’t mind giving Jack some of the most cringe-worthy details. Maybe because he knows Jack’s in a similar boat, whereas Ben and his extremely limited dating history and perfect girlfriend certainly can’t relate.

It’s easy though, wandering through the museum with Jack and bringing up a couple bad date stories – nothing traumatizing or horrendous, just awkward – and listening to Jack sympathize in a way that Sammy knows Ben and Troy can’t, no matter how hard they try. 

“Alright, so it’s become clear that I’m not your worst date of all time,” Jack says after Sammy tells him about the guy who let loose his tarantula the first and only time Sammy went to his apartment.

“Far from,” Sammy laughs, somehow comfortable with Jack now. The things being stuck in the winter weather together helps with, apparently. “Seriously, you just had the unfortunate timing of coming _after _the eight guys who’ve stood me up before – if you would’ve been the first, this would’ve been smoothed over much more easily.”

“Eight?” Jack’s almost a little crestfallen. “Sammy, that _sucks._”

“It is what it is,” Sammy shrugs, because he has sort of made his peace with it in his own self-loathing way. “I just have one of those faces that makes you want to reconsider, I guess.”

“I promise you don’t,” Jack says, and Sammy feels himself blush even though Jack hadn’t said it with any sort of particular emphasis or strength. He’d just said it like it was easy and he didn’t even have to think about it.

They wander through all three floors of the museum before Sammy remembers that Ben’s probably out of class by now and Sammy’s no longer stuck here. He’s almost a little disappointed to text Ben with a plea for help, though he’s not analyzing why.

Ben’s response to his text is instantaneous, of course. _Are you stranded???? I’m SOOOO sorry I’ll leave in two minutes I promise. Text me the address?? _

“So, um, I’ve unfortunately released Ben on the world,” Sammy holds up his phone to Jack, who’s been complaining about his sister bringing up her various lesbian conquests and the paper thin walls of his apartment, which has been an amusing vein of conversation. “He’ll probably be here in ten minutes. Breaking the speed limit to make sure I haven’t frozen to death.”

“He sounds sweet,” Jack says with a laugh, because Sammy’s actually talked about Ben a bit, too. How much Sammy would like to confide in him, but how unnatural it feels to talk with Ben candidly about his sexuality. He’d been so sure Ben wouldn’t want to be as close to him, wouldn’t want to touch him or hug him or make dinner with him, but Ben’s just latched on even more firmly instead.

“He’s something,” Sammy rolls his eyes with no shortage of affection. “Um, thanks for hanging out. The art museum was a good idea. And please don’t feel bad about before. You more than made up for it.”

“Thanks,” Jack shakes his head ruefully, and Sammy can tell he’s going to keep feeling guilty no matter what Sammy says. “If you ever want to hang out again – as friends, I mean, I know the other thing is very much off the table – I had a good time talking to you.”

“You, too,” Sammy says with surprising meaning. “I’ve never really had a gay friend before. It was nice to talk with someone who can empathize rather than just sympathize.”

“Same here,” Jack says, and then reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone. “Here. I’m gonna make myself go to Verizon tomorrow and get my stupid phone fixed, I’ll buy unlimited data if I have to – but just in case I’m ever running late again.”

Sammy smiles when he takes Jack’s phone and their fingers brush. He types in his number, not analyzing the swooping feeling in his stomach.

“Are you sure you can get a ride?” Sammy asks, and quickly adds even though the idea stresses him out, “Ben can –” 

“No, no,” Jack says, and Sammy thinks the haste in his voice is in clear recognition of that stress. “Don’t worry about me. I can hang out here until my sister gets off work. It’s only another half an hour.”

“Are you sure?” Sammy asks, but Jack waves him off.

“Go,” Jack says. “But, uh, text me to tell me you got home safe, okay? As we know, the roads are treacherous out there. Black ice kills so – tell Ben to be careful.”

“Yeah, I will,” Sammy says, and wishes he wasn’t so pleased at the concern in Jack’s voice. “I’ll – um, see you around sometime.”

They make awkward eye contact before Sammy turns on his heel and heads back down the stairs, heart thumping entirely too loudly in his chest.

Shit. Jack was _really _nice. Sammy hadn’t wanted or expected that. Hot, yes. Nice, no. Jack somehow slid below his lowest standard and vaulted wildly above Sammy’s highest expectations in the course of three hours, and Sammy has no idea how to deal with that _at all. _

Ben’s car is outside within minutes of Sammy leaving the building, and he can’t help but smile at Ben’s huge, concerned glossy green eyes, or the way Ben pulls him into a long hug the second he shuts the door to the car.

“Are you alright?” Ben doesn’t let go, patting Sammy’s back a few times. “You should’ve told me, I would’ve skipped my last lecture.”

“I was fine, Ben,” Sammy extricates an arm out from Ben’s iron grip to pat his shoulder. “We just wandered around the museum for a while.”

“We?” Ben’s eyes light up and he lets Sammy go. “So your date went well? Troy says Jack’s really great.”

Sammy hesitates, wondering how much he should say.

He settles for a very truncated version of the truth. “Yeah. He is pretty great.”

Sammy cuts Ben off before Ben can open his mouth, because Sammy knows he’s going to make some kind of insinuation next that Sammy wants to shut down quickly. “We’re just gonna be friends, though.”

Ben’s face falls into one of mild dismay and suspicion as he starts the car and pulls slowly back into traffic. “What? Why?”

“Lots of reasons,” Sammy doesn’t want to get into it or explain himself. Mainly because it would mean explaining the eight guys who stood Sammy up before tonight, and he doesn’t want Ben to know about that. The thought makes his face heat up in embarrassment. “Don’t look so upset. It went way better than I thought it would.”

“What do you mean by that? He’s friends with Troy – that’s a stamp of approval from the universe if there ever was one.”

“_We’re _friends with Troy, so does that mean we get the same stamp?”

Sammy keeps up the bickering, which Ben is more than happy to be distracted with, and luckily Sammy doesn’t have to explain himself further. Tonight, at the very least. He knows Ben won’t let it go forever.

* * *

“So how’d it go? With Jack?”

Once Troy and Emily come over on Sunday, they only manage to avoid the subject for all of ten minutes. It’s technically Boys Night; Troy brought beer and action movies, but Emily has very much become a staple of Boys Night as of recently, which is perfectly fine with everyone but especially Sammy. Even though he loves Ben and Troy, the mere thought of a Boys Night is a bit daunting to him conceptually. He’d always been afraid, in his unfounded sort of way, that he’d get kicked out once they found out he was gay.

He’d known the fear wasn’t in danger of becoming reality, but that hadn’t stopped him from worrying anyway.

And now they’re talking about his date with a guy that Troy set him up with, so Sammy _knows _how unfounded his fears are, but he stands by his paranoia.

“_Great_,” Ben fills in with a smug voice when Sammy busies himself with prepping the plate of raw veggies. He, Troy, and Emily bring healthy food to Boys Night because Ben’s incapable of eating anything about Red Vines without their help. “But they’re _just friends_.”

“Just friends is nice,” Emily inserts herself into the conversation, taking Ben’s hand. Sammy smiles at her solidarity, and she grins back as if she knows exactly what he’s thinking. “We could all use more friends, couldn’t we?”

“Was there something wrong?” Troy’s too nice, blinking congenially down at him. Troy’s practically taller than everyone else is even when he’s sitting down, it’s ridiculous. At least Sammy’s not as short as Ben or he’d really feel dwarfed. “Jack’s a real sweet guy. And I know I’m not the best judge, but he’s pretty darn good-looking. I see him at the gym every week, he really –”

“_Okay_!” Sammy cuts in loudly, not wanting to hear even a whisper about Jack’s workout routine. “There was nothing wrong, Troy. Jack’s great. But the romance thing just isn’t gonna happen with us, alright? I think he’s going to make a really good friend, though.”

“You’ve been texting him all weekend,” Ben, apparently, is taking this opportunity to call Sammy out. Sammy doesn’t appreciate it.

“Did you steal my phone?” Sammy throws a baby carrot across the table at Ben, who scrambles to catch it but it hits his chest instead.

“No! You just get a weird smile on your face! And now that I’ve confirmed it’s because of him –”

“Benny,” Emily says in a long-patient tone, “I think that maybe Sammy isn’t looking for a relationship right now, and it’s very nice that he and Jack are friends. Maybe you want to invite Jack over sometime, Sammy?”

Sammy feels himself blush, even though Emily is nothing but the kindest and most well-meaning in her suggestion. “Um. Maybe someday.”

“I can invite him, too,” Troy says but Sammy catches Emily throwing Troy a look that’s not quite a glare. “Or not. Sammy can invite him. Whenever he wants.”

“We’re getting lunch later this week,” Sammy admits, thinking back to Jack’s text when they set the time with a small smile. _If I don’t show up on time, I AM DEFINITELY COMING. PLS DON’T LEAVE. “_Maybe I’ll ask him then.”

Sammy doubts he will, but it’s nice to remain hopeful. Besides, it’s not like Jack would air any of Sammy’s dirty laundry to his friends. Jack gets the whole confidentiality thing, Sammy’s pretty sure.

“When are you meeting him?” Ben asks with a sudden intensity to his voice. “I could come along –”

“_Honey_,” Emily squeezes Ben’s hand hard enough to probably leave a mark and Ben’s expression turns guilty when he looks at her. “Sammy can make a friend by _himself_.”

“It’s Wednesday, you have your seminar,” Sammy explains quickly, knowing that Ben won’t take well to separating unless it’s already a given that they’ll be apart. “We’ll go to a movie or something after, okay, buddy?”

That gets Ben to smile, because sometimes when he’s being particularly petulant, Sammy does have to revert to the Toddler Treatment. Ben doesn’t seem to mind when Sammy suddenly starts buying him ice cream though, so Sammy’s going to keep using these methods as long as he can get away with it.

“The new X-Men?”

“Whatever you want,” Sammy promises.

* * *

Sammy doesn’t invite Jack to Boys Night, or any other event with the rest of his friends, when they get lunch on Wednesday.

But they do set up a time to get coffee that weekend. And then they study together the next Tuesday. And then get lunch again on Wednesday since they both have a free afternoon.

Sammy realizes a little too late that he hasn’t left his apartment when he should’ve if he’s going to make it to the tea bar where he’s meant to meet Jack at noon. Even walking at top speed and texting Jack with one hand, he’s fifteen minutes late.

“You can tease me,” Sammy says when he comes in and Jack waves and starts talking about his morning class without mentioning Sammy’s tardiness. “I fully expected it, c’mon, you’ve had time to think up some good jokes.”

“I don’t need jokes,” Jack laughs and rolls his eyes, and Sammy’s not reading into the affection he sees there at all. “You can be late. I knew you were coming.”

“Yeah, but I don’t even have a decent excuse, I was just lazy,” Sammy argues, and Jack grins at him from across the table. He’s already ordered a pot of chamomile, and he pours Sammy some without Sammy even having to ask. “I need you to make fun of me a little, Jack. I totally deserve it.”

“Sammy, I’ve been at least thirty minutes early every time we’ve met up since that first day,” Jack says with a rueful little smile. Sammy feels the bottom drop of out his stomach in a terrifying but ultimately sort of pleasant way. “I think I’m the one who deserves _all _the teasing here.”

“Jack,” Sammy tries not to show just how touched he is, “You really don’t have to. I know you’re coming. You could be twenty minutes late without texting now, and I wouldn’t –”

Sammy stops himself, because yeah, that would still hurt. His hang-up definitely isn’t gone entirely, and Jack seems to realize that, if his raised eyebrow is anything to go by.

“I would be worried,” Sammy corrects himself, “but I wouldn’t be mad. Like, really mad. I might be a little annoyed, but mostly I would be concerned you were dead in a ditch somewhere. Since you know better than to do that.”

“Exactly, I know better,” Jack nods. “Which is why I’m always gonna be early, and you can’t stop me. If I’m ever even a minute late and you haven’t heard from me, you can and should presume that I’m dead or dying and call an ambulance.”

**“**That’s dramatic,” Sammy smiles, and doesn’t really stop smiling for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

Emily, Sammy thinks, might be the only one of his friends who gets his weird new undefinable relationship with Jack without him having to explain a thing.

Ben’s been a bit sulky for the last few weeks, and makes a few pointed comments about Jack that Sammy doesn’t appreciate. Still, he knows Ben, and is sure that Ben just doesn’t like that this means less time the two of them spend together.

That doesn’t make it hurt less, though. Sammy wishes he could reach out and talk, but his own repression combined with Ben’s petulance is a bad combination.

Troy’s always sweet and well-meaning, and never once petulant – but Troy has even less understanding than Ben of Sammy’s various predicaments. Troy can’t fathom a situation where anyone is anything less than their best, or trying their hardest, or articulating exactly what they want.

Emily, on the other hand, has always been the most understated in her way of dealing with Sammy. She has a soft touch that Ben will just never have no matter how hard he tries. Ben’s like a freight train. Emily just has a way of making everything seem alright even when Sammy’s frightened it’s not.

He and Jack had been walking through campus together to get to a restaurant Jack’s sister told him was her new favorite, when Sammy had heard Emily call his name from across the street.

Sammy hadn’t really been scared at all to pull Jack over to introduce him, whereas with Ben he would’ve been shaking out of his skin. 

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Emily shakes Jack’s hand with a beaming smile. “You’re just as handsome as Troy said you were.”

Jack laughs, covering his face a little as he flushes. It’s unfairly cute. “Alright, well, if Troy said it then I know it’s true. You’re Emily, right? Ben’s girlfriend?”

“That’s me,” Emily nods, smiling. “I’ve had to do a lot of reassuring these past couple weeks that you aren’t replacing Ben as Sammy’s best friend.”

“Aww, really?” Jack makes a noise of sympathy, and Sammy cuts in.

“Can I put in a word for you to tell him that he’s not being replaced and that sharing his toys is a good thing?” Sammy asks. “I know he’s an only child and never had to learn that –”

Emily laughs, putting a hand over her mouth. “I can try, but you know how he gets. He just can’t fathom why you’d ever need a friend who isn’t him. He just doesn’t get that maybe there’s some things about you he can’t quite understand.”

Some tension hangs in the air after that comment and Emily sighs apologetically. Still, it’s not like she’s wrong, she’s just brought up a certain elephant Sammy’s been avoiding addressing when Ben’s around.

“I was a bit worried when Troy wanted to set Sammy up,” Emily’s voice drops a bit both in tone and volume, and Jack casts Sammy a quick look as if asking if this is comfortable or okay. “I think he just wanted to show support but hadn’t really thought through why that kind of support could be a little daunting. But I’m so glad you guys managed to make a friend of it.”

“Me too,” Jack relaxes a bit as he grins over at Sammy and Sammy can’t help but smile back. “Though Troy’s asked me the last three times I’ve seen him why Sammy and I aren’t dating, so if you’re in the business of dropping hints…”

“I try,” Emily sighs, rolling her eyes. “I’m the only one with sense in our little group, aren’t I, Sammy?”

“You have the _most _sense,” Sammy grins, “though I think I’m a good contender for second place.”

“Some days,” Emily hums teasingly and Jack laughs. “Alright, I do have to get to my night class. Have fun doing whatever it is you guys are doing! And don’t stay out too late. Benny’s with Troy, thankfully, otherwise he might panic without either of us there.”

Emily waves as she leaves, and Jack smiles and waves after her.

“She’s super nice,” Jack says, and Sammy nods. “Is Ben actually liable to panic?”

“He’s a little codependent,” Sammy says and quickly adds, “I am too, don’t get me wrong. Ben’s my best friend. First, real, and only. I met Troy and Emily through him. We’re _really_ close.”

Sammy wishes he could tell Jack his fears that Ben’s closeness has a limit, that he’s so scared of talking to Ben about romance, that he has unfounded fears about this being more than Ben’s usual pettiness, that he doesn’t want Sammy to have a boyfriend because he secretly has a problem with it –

But that would mean talking about how Sammy’s started to see romance and Jack as two very adjacent things in his mind.

Jack, of course, has never brought it up. Why would he? In his mind, he’s the one who fucked up that opportunity irrevocably. Sammy knows that if he wants his and Jack’s relationship to go anywhere different, he needs to be the one to speak up.

“I’d really love to meet Ben if you’re alright with it,” Jack says, all earnestness. Sammy hopes Ben feels the same about Jack.

* * *

It’s freezing cold when Jack walks him home on Friday night, and Sammy wishes he had the ability to reach out and take Jack’s hand through his gloves to warm them both up. He’s given it a great deal of thought, and intense thought at that.

If only thought was good enough.

“I have a bunch of papers due next week, so I might be a little scarce,” Jack says when they’re within eyesight of Sammy’s building. “But I thought maybe you’d wanna see a movie next weekend?”

“Yeah, sure,” Sammy says because saying no to Jack isn’t something he’s capable of anymore. And also, he really wants to go to a movie with Jack. “Anything good playing? Ben and I saw the new X-Men movie twice, so I’m fine with anything but that. Unless you really want to, then I’ll see it a third time.”

Jack laughs, shaking his head and Sammy grins. It’s dark, so hopefully Jack can’t see his blush.

“We can pick later, I’ll text you what’s playing,” Jack says. “Though, I am going to insist that you’re also early this time. The movie-going experience is all about getting there before the previews start. This is non-negotiable.”

“I see your point,” Sammy says, deciding not to tell him how chronically late he is for movies and how he and Ben missed the first fifteen minutes the second time they went to the X-Men movie. “Are you still on the early thing? You can give that up at any point. On time is the best way to be, Jack.”

“Hey, you’re making me better at being early for everything else in life,” Jack tells him. “My professors appreciate the effort.”

“You’re too nice,” Sammy says, knowing he sounds just as pleased as he feels.

“Well,” Jack’s voice turns down just slightly, “you’ve dealt with a lot of _not nice. _And I don’t ever wanna be that.”

“Jack,” Sammy, yet again, desperately wishes that he had the courage to take Jack’s hand. The streets are dead, so he could but he won’t. He knows he won’t. “You’ve always been nice. Thoroughly interesting and charming and all the rest. Even when you decide to talk about the Loch Ness Monster for an hour and a half –”

“I was sparing you from another art history lecture!” Jack groans, but Sammy knows that his teasing tone isn’t being misconstrued. “I like to spice things up. Better or worse than surrealism?”

“About even,” Sammy says. “I’m used to cryptid lectures because of Ben, though.”

“Ben and I are gonna have to discuss this at length sometime,” Jack says, determination laced in his voice.

Sammy hasn’t invited him to come over to his apartment yet, with his friends or otherwise. He could do it tonight. He could ask Jack to come in when they say usually say goodbye outside the door. Ben’s upstairs. Ben and Jack could be talking cryptids within five minutes, and Sammy could make spiked hot chocolate and watch his best friend and his other best friend slash not-so-secret crush become best friends too, because he thinks they would if he gave them the chance.

Sammy wants all of that too badly. It’s probably clouding his judgment. Unfortunately, whenever Sammy thinks he’s gotten over a hang-up, it just comes back in full force.

Sammy’s not worried about Jack standing him up, or being late, or not calling – but he is worried about what it means to introduce Jack to his friends. The importance it signifies, the way it will change things – with Jack, but with Ben, too.

So Sammy says goodbye to Jack outside the door, and hugs him for all of two seconds. It’s the most he can do for tonight.

Jack doesn’t seem to mind, just hugs him back and promises to text him when he gets home safe.

Sammy’s feeling a weird combination of guilty and joyful, as is his usual state of being after Jack says goodnight and Sammy hadn’t been brave enough to stop him from leaving. That’s at least until he gets into his apartment and finds Ben standing in the kitchen, not looking over at Sammy, just eating a bowl of cereal in his pajamas and looking forlorn.

“Hi,” Sammy says, already able to tell something’s wrong by the way Ben’s not talking a million miles an hour like he always does when he hasn’t seen Sammy all day. 

“Was that Jack outside?” Ben asks, his voice slightly smaller than usual.

Sammy nods, the guilty part of his brain overwhelming him now. “Yeah. He, um, walked me home.”

“Oh,” Ben’s voice is quiet, and there’s some dread to it that Sammy recognizes and immediately hates.

“Ben –” Sammy isn’t sure what he’s going to say next, but Ben cuts him off before he has to think of anything.

“Look,” Ben starts, and Sammy’s heart sinks as he fears any number of things that could come out of Ben’s mouth, most specifically _I thought I was cool with you being gay but it turns out I’m super not. _“I’ve talked to Emily, and I know – I know it’s okay for you to have other friends. Especially other gay friends! And I know he’s, he’s probably a much better friend than I am, and gets you in ways I can’t, but – is there something really wrong with me, and that’s why you won’t introduce us?”

Sammy can’t do anything but gape at Ben in shock for what feels like a solid minute.

It’s the tears in the corners of Ben’s too-big green eyes, blinking away steadily as Ben stares at the ground and not Sammy, shoveling in another spoonful of cereal, that make Sammy speak, as fast as he can.

“Ben, what are you even talking about?” Sammy rushes across the ten feet of space between them to put an arm around Ben’s shoulder. Ben leans in just slightly, sniffling. Usually Ben would throw his arms around him – did Sammy really make him think that badly of himself?

“You’re just so close to him, and it feels like you’re never here anymore,” Ben’s voice wobbles, “and I told you when you came out to me that things would stay the same with us, and that’s all I want. I just want us to be as close as always. I’m sorry if I’m not – not good enough or – or haven’t been as supportive as I could. I’ll try harder, I promise.”

Sammy has to gather himself up to even begin to respond to Ben crying in earnest now. He fully hugs Ben, pulling him into his chest and resting his chin on top of Ben’s head the way he did the last time Ben cried like this, which was after he watched Marley and Me all by himself.

“I’m sorry I made you think that,” Sammy whispers, hating himself for not realizing that though of course Ben is sensitive and petty in the extreme, that doesn’t mean that Sammy couldn’t have realized he had been legitimately beating himself up over this. “Ben, you’re a million times more supportive than I ever thought _anyone _could be. And yeah, there’s things about me that Jack gets that you can’t – but that doesn’t make you a worse friend, okay? It just makes you a different kind of friend. My best friend. My _only _best friend. I love you, buddy, please don’t ever think I don’t.”

“I – I guess I know that,” Ben seems to be gaining some of his composure back, even if he hasn’t moved his head from where it fits in the crook of Sammy’s neck. “I just – are you embarrassed of me? Is that why everyone’s met Jack but me?”

“_Ben_,” Sammy makes a noise somewhere between a choking sob and a laugh. “Troy knew him before I did and Emily literally ran into us! I’m not embarrassed of you, I’m – I’m embarrassed of myself, mainly.”

“What?” Ben moves his head to blink up at Sammy, befuddled. Of course he doesn’t get it – that’s what makes him Ben, and part of what makes his support mean so much. Because he doesn’t get it but he keeps trying anyway.

“I haven’t introduced you because have a _monumental _crush on Jack,” Sammy barely gets the words out, easier than he thought they’d be, before Ben springs up out of his chair with a blazing look on his eye.

“Well, why didn’t you just _say _that? A boyfriend is a totally different thing!”

It’s like he flipped a switch, and Sammy can’t help but laugh as the tears on Ben’s face almost instantaneously dry up. Ben grabs both of Sammy’s hands and squeezes, his expression suddenly radiating joy rather than sullenness.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Sammy corrects, “I just… wish he was.”

“Well, Troy set you up – why didn’t you date instead of deciding to be friends? Did he decide that and you just went along with it? Does he have someone else? Is there –”

Sammy’s so frightened of explaining, but Ben crying has somehow scared those fears off even more, because there’s nothing more terrifying than Ben thinking Sammy hates him. If anything, it’s become clear that Sammy _has_ to tell Ben everything, and once he starts he won’t be able to stop.

Ben will do his best to understand, and he won’t be angry that Sammy’s kept things from him. He hadn’t been angry at all when Sammy came out, why would he be angry now?

Or at least that’s what Sammy’s rational brain is drilling into him while his insecurities whisper otherwise.

He can’t listen to them right now, though. Ben needs some reassurance.

“I think he likes me, too,” Sammy begins to explain, and his voice doesn’t shake. Ben grins as if he’s about to ask what the problem is, but there are plenty of those for Sammy to explain. “The thing is, he sort of thinks he ruined it already and I haven’t…..the problem is….he was _late_.”

Ben blinks up at him, of course not realizing without Sammy going into it further. Sammy sighs, takes a tighter hold of Ben’s hands, and makes himself keep talking.

“Basically every guy I’ve ever gone out with has stood me up at one point or another,” Sammy looks at his shoes and not Ben’s face. “The first two times I tried to go on a date, I never even met the guy because he didn’t show. It’s happened six times since then – and not just on first dates. It happened with a boyfriend, too. Stood up, late, lots of cancellations – that’s the primary staple of every time I’ve so much as _tried _to date.”

“Oh, no,” Ben’s eyes widen as he makes a distressed noise.

“One time,” Sammy says, because it’s happening now, “I had a guy text me five minutes before he was supposed to show saying that I just wasn’t his type. That sort of fucks with your self-esteem.”

“I hate him,” Ben whispers and Sammy very nearly laughs. 

“Jack was late to our date, and I thought he stood me up, too – or at least didn’t care enough to be on time,” Sammy explains. “I tried to leave – but then the bus and the weather – and he got the chance to explain that it was an honest mistake, and we ended up hanging out. But he’s as much as said that he knows he ruined his chances with me.”

“You could’ve told me that,” Ben whispers, but not in an accusatory way, just sweet and comforting, like Ben’s always been. Sammy doubts good things, though, and Ben’s the best thing there is. “And I would’ve told you that you’re basically already dating him and you have to tell him he’s got _more than _a shot with you.”

Ben cheers a little under his breath and it makes Sammy giggle, because of course Ben just needs a smidgen of reassurance before he’s Sammy’s overly supportive best friend again. He should really stop doubting Ben.

But Sammy does have to keep explaining. Otherwise he’ll just have to have this conversation again with Ben in another month and it’ll be an endless cycle of Sammy not sharing his feelings. Which he knows isn’t healthy, but it comes much more naturally than talking.

“I didn’t wanna tell you because basically all of those shitty not-relationships happened while we were friends but I wasn’t out to you yet,” Sammy winces. “I thought – maybe you’d have some delayed anger about me keeping secrets. Plus, it’s embarrassing how awful dating has been for me, which is why I haven’t ever really talked to you about guys even now. I know it’s stupid but –”

“It’s not!” Ben lets go of Sammy only to plow into him in a hug with far too much strength for someone so small. “I know I don’t – _can’t_ – get it. Not entirely. And I’m not mad at all. I never will be, not about coming out stuff. That’s your prerogative, dude. I know I’m pushy and overbearing – because Emily tells me that, not because I’m self-aware –”

Sammy laughs, and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt anything better than the relief coursing through him since the last time he decided to confide in Ben about certain details of his life he’d kept under wraps. Obviously that was the bigger deal, this was just residual baggage – but it was pretty decent-sized residual baggage that felt good to say out loud.

“You are, but I think I probably need it,” Sammy admits. “Ben, the reason I don’t talk to you isn’t because you aren’t my best friend, or I don’t love you. I always want to talk to you. You care so much, and – and I never expected _anyone_ to care. That’s why I haven’t introduced you to Jack yet. We’re not dating, but if we were…I mean, growing up, I just never imagined I could introduce anyone to my boyfriend.”

“That’s so fucking _sad_,” Ben doesn’t stop embracing Sammy, only digs into his chest even more with his head. “I just want to be as good of a best friend to you as you’ve been to me. No matter what I’ve dealt with, you’ve _always _been there for me. I tell you _everything – _I just wanna be able to do the same for you.”

“I’m gonna try to let you,” Sammy says like a promise. “So. Um. Since you want to talk. Do you have any ideas about how I can tell Jack I want to date him, or –”

“Oh, I have _several._”

* * *

Sammy doesn’t _exactly _have a plan.

He’d rejected every single one of Ben’s proposals, especially anything that involved a musical declaration – and which point Ben told him to just sit down and tell Jack he’d like to change their relationship status like a normal person.

Which Sammy is, and he probably can do. The capability probably exists somewhere within him, or so Ben tells him thirteen times in the next week.

Still, it doesn’t stop him from practically hyperventilating on the ten-minute walk between his apartment and the coffee shop on campus where he’s meeting Jack. He has a paper due at midnight, so they’re not seeing a movie until tomorrow – but it’d been a full five days since they’d hung out, and Sammy was getting used to asking to see him more often.

Jack’s already there, early like he’s been every single time since the first day, and Sammy equals loves and hates that about Jack –

But there’s something very off about the way Jack greets him, a hand up in greeting and an extremely strained smile.

“Are you alright?” Sammy asks as he pulls his hat and gloves off, struggling for a second to unzip his bulky winter coat. Jack’s upgraded from a hoodie to a canvas coat, but it’s nearly December and Sammy feels like he’s gonna be the one to drag Jack to Target to get him something substantial. “Stressed out about your paper?”

“Yeah,” Jack says, but the strain in his voice is easy to read. He clears his throat a few times, but it doesn’t help when he talks again. “I’m fine. Just – yeah. Fine.”

Sammy notices that Jack’s laptop isn’t out, even though he texted earlier to say he’d been at the coffee shop most of the day working on the first draft.

Sammy doesn’t immediately get suspicious that Jack lied to him – he’s mostly just concerned. Although, suspicion and Sammy Stevens are never seen without each other, so it’s not like that’s entirely gone yet. Sammy shoves it down though, because it’s not worth thinking about, because Jack looks….sick.

“Your eyes,” Sammy notices with a spike of alarm. Jack’s brown eyes, usually very intent and meaningful, keep going out of focus the longer Jack looks at him. It seems like he’s trying make eye contact with Sammy but he can’t quite bring himself to. “Jack –”

“….I have a _slight _migraine,” Jack admits, and now he’s really not looking at Sammy and not just because he can’t. He awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, where a red flush appears. “It’s nothing to worry about. It’s not that bad yet. I’ve got an hour or so before I need to get to a dark room, so that’s plenty of time to catch up –”

Sammy stares at Jack in equal parts affection and horror. “How are you _so_ stupid?”

Jack bites down hard on his lip and Sammy’s sure that wasn’t the right thing to say at all. “I’m almost done with the paper, don’t worry, I’ll have time to revise it before midnight, I’ll be feeling better –”

“I meant why the hell are you still here, “Sammy corrects, heart hammering. He doesn’t reach out for Jack even though he’s never wanted to more badly. The coffee shop is crowded though, full of students preparing for the last midterm before finals. “Go home, go to the dark room – I would’ve been fine without you.”

“I didn’t wanna cancel,” Jack does look at him now, and seems to be concentrating quite a bit to make sure his eyes don’t slide off of Sammy if the clench in his jaw is anything to go by.

“Jack, I’ve known you for more than a month now. We’re _friends, _you are very much allowed to cancel on me and I won’t be angry with you,” Sammy says, wondering if that’s the issue here or if it’s something else.

“I know,” Jack admits, screwing up his face. Whether it’s in embarrassment or pain, Sammy doesn’t know. “But I don’t want to disappoint you. Plus, I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all week.”

“You’re very sweet,” Sammy tells him, because he is and it’s impossible not to notice, “But I think my chronic fear of being stood up is matched only by your chronic fear of disappointing people. Am I about right?”

It’s something he’s noticed a few times with Jack, and not just when it comes to Sammy. Whenever Jack tells a story about any guy he’s gone out with before, or his friends, even his sister or his parents, Sammy’s picked up on a common thread. Jack has a real fear in his voice when he talks about letting someone down, or not being exactly what’s expected of him.

Jack’s quiet for a moment, eyes closed, and when he speaks it’s with more than a little guilt. “You’re probably right.”

“How about you let me walk you home,” Sammy suggests, all plans of telling Jack anything today out the window. There are more important things to worry about. “And you can call me tomorrow if you’re feeling up to going to the movie.”

“It’s just a migraine, I’ll be fine by then –”

Sammy lets Jack talk as he grabs Jack’s various notebooks strewn out around the table and piles them into his bag. Jack doesn’t really seem to notice what he’s doing, his eyes glassy, and Sammy shoulders both his bag and Jack’s after he zips up his coat.

He doesn’t resist the urge to zip Jack’s coat up as well, because Jack doesn’t have the mental presence to think of that right now and it’s only ten degrees out outside. Jack smiles at him when he does it, and he stands up without Sammy pulling him – which he’d been planning on doing.

“Honestly,” Jack says when they get outside the door and they’re hit with an icy almost-December blast of air. “I would’ve been alright if you wanted to stay. I’ve had migraines for years, I know how to get through them.”

“Jack, you still would’ve had to walk home after. It’s freezing cold and the sidewalks are covered in ice,” Sammy reminds him as they start down the sidewalk. “You only live ten minutes from here, so I _know _you walked.”

“Biked, actually.”

“Jesus Christ,” Sammy gripes, and locks his arm with Jack’s without thinking about it, just in case he slips. Apparently his hang-ups only extend so far as Jack’s personal safety is concerned, which is a huge issue at the moment for Sammy. “The fact that you bike _anywhere _with this kind of ice is personally painful to me.”

“Sorry,” Jack’s voice is so soft and apologetic, and Sammy cannot stand it. “I wear a helmet, if that makes you feel better.”

“Minimally,” Sammy says, his tone a little grumpier than he meant it, and Jack stays quiet. He doesn’t move his arm from where Sammy’s got a death grip on it, though, so that’s a point in his favor.

Sammy hasn’t been in Jack’s building before, but he’s walked Jack to the front doors. It’s not in the same neighborhood as Sammy’s, but they’re both campus-adjacent and within pretty easy walking distance of each other.

Sammy’s never been inside, though, and he can feel his stomach doing somersaults when Jack gets out his keys and pulls open the front door.

He lets go of Jack’s arm once they’re in the doorway and out of the cold, but he watches Jack carefully just in case as they walk up the stairs. Jack doesn’t stumble, but he also isn’t walking very purposefully either. Sammy doesn’t know much about migraines, but he’s sure Jack should be in bed by now.

“Sorry you’re only coming over because of _this,_” Jack makes an annoyed gesture with his hand as he unlocks his apartment door.

The apartment is on the second floor, and when he opens the door, it’s to a cozy looking living room with books and papers strewn out across the two couches so there’s barely any room to sit. “Lily’s at work thankfully, so you don’t have to deal with her –”

“I’d like to meet your sister,” Sammy says mildly, not reading into what Jack could glean from that. He probably doesn’t have the mental presence to read into the subtext of anything right now, actually, so he isn’t going to worry. “C’mon, where’s your room?”

Jack leads him down a short hallway with three doors before opening the one furthest from the common space. Sammy walks in after him – it’s a little bigger than Sammy’s, but messy enough that it seems smaller. Jack’s desk is completely covered in haphazard stacks of books that litter the floor, too.

Sammy sets Jack’s bag on the ground next to the door, and hesitates for a second before setting his own bag beside it. He pulls off his winter coat, and realizes that Jack’s perched on the edge of the bed still with his shoes and coat, just closing his eyes.

“Here,” Sammy crosses the two feet of space between them to pull Jack’s gloves off, at the very least. That seems to wake Jack up slightly, because he manages to kick off his boots. He starts pulling at the coat, and Sammy grabs one of the sleeves to help shake him out of it.

Sammy’s not analyzing any of this, because if he does, he’s liable to panic. That’s not what Jack needs right now.

“Do you want some water? Tylenol?” Sammy asks, and Jack nods, eyes still closed.

“I have a prescription for migraines in the bathroom if you wouldn’t mind –”

Sammy doesn’t even wait for him to finish before hurrying out of the room. The bathroom is across from Jack’s room, and the counter is just as messy as the rest of the apartment. Sammy doesn’t see any pill bottles, though, and feels a bit guilty rummaging through the drawers – but he can get over that.

There are plenty of prescription pill bottles in the bottom drawer though, probably at least a dozen, some full and some empty. Sammy searches for anything that says migraine on it, and finally finds one at the bottom. Most of the bottles have Jack’s name on them, which concerns Sammy slightly.

When he gets back to Jack’s room, Jack’s laying down on top of the covers of his bed, the lights off. Sammy notices that the window has a blackout curtain, probably because this is a relatively common experience for him.

“Thanks for bringing me home,” Jack says softly as Sammy carefully and quietly sets the medication and a tall glass of water on the bedside table. “Sorry about ruining the day.”

“Shut up,” Sammy advises him and he recognizes the quick puff of air from Jack’s nose as a laugh. Sammy carefully sits on the edge of Jack’s bed, close enough to touch but he doesn’t. “Do you want me to stay? I’m not busy, and I wanna make sure you’re really okay.”

Jack’s face scrunches up a little in hesitation – he must want to be alone but he’s too nice to say anything, Sammy realizes with an uncomfortable lurch of his stomach.

“Sorry, I can go,” Sammy tries to keep himself from babbling or over-justifying himself, “I – I just thought that maybe –”

_I just thought I’m sitting on the edge of your bed, and I could hold your hand right now if you wanted me to, _Sammy’s brain fills in miserably. But just because he wants that doesn’t mean Jack does – Jack might fully see him as only a friend now.

“No, I – if you want to stay,” Jack says quickly, not filling in the rest of the sentence, and that doesn’t seem encouraging. Sammy should probably just go, just leave, just call Jack tomorrow to see if he’s feeling better. “I – um.”

Jack sits up, and Sammy’s about to tell him not to make the effort – but when Jack opens his eyes, they’re very clear and intent in a way they haven’t been today.

Jack crosses his legs, sighing as he runs a hand through his hair. Sammy can tell he’s in pain from the way he winces. He wishes Jack would lay back down, both for health reasons and for Sammy to avoid whatever he’s going to say reasons.

“Listen,” Jack says, his jaw setting persistently. Ben gets like this too when he’s sick, completely unable to stop or slow down. “You know my not-wanting-to-disappoint-you thing? It doesn’t exactly come from nowhere. I’ve had a lot of people decide that I’m too much to deal with and not worth the trouble.”

“What?” Sammy doesn’t think he’s ever heard anything make less sense in his life. “That’s…”

“About every guy I’ve ever dated hasn’t really ever been a _boyfriend,” _Jack’s lip curls with regret, and the Sammy can see that the back of his neck is red. Maybe Jack has as much trouble talking about his issues as Sammy, though that doesn’t seem likely. “There’s a cutoff date. About a month in. I have it timed. They decide I’m entirely too much work.”

“What, because of – because of migraines, or art history, or the Loch Ness Monster – or what?” Sammy asks, struggling to think of any other things anyone could possibly construe about Jack to be somehow bad, or not worth investing any energy into.

Jack sighs, and his eyes screw shut. “Sometimes it’s my fault. It’s how much I talk about things they don’t care about, my passion projects, getting too invested in anything I do. I forget to eat sometimes, I’m not great at taking care of myself. But – I also have some health issues, too. Migraines, chronic insomnia, awful nightmares, sleep paralysis – most guys spend one night with me and figure out they don’t want to deal with that bullshit ever again.”

Sammy realizes belatedly that his body moved without consulting his brain – and his hand is on Jack’s knee.

His first instinct is to yank it away, but he doesn’t even know if Jack’s noticed. His eyes are still closed, and he hasn’t moved an inch.

Sammy breathes in shakily. “Jack, that’s _horrible.”_

“It does get worse,” Jack laughs, breathy and without much humor. “The only _real _boyfriend I’ve had – I thought he was a great guy at first. He really seemed to take care of me, and not mind doing it. But then he got _weird _about it. Passive-aggressive. He felt more like my mother than anything and eventually I dreaded being around him. I genuinely started to be afraid that he was gonna kidnap me and spoon-feed me forever. It was so weird and gross, the way he would micromanage me. He’d lecture me when I woke him up at night, or had to go home early because of a migraine. Make it feel like it was my fault.”

“God,” Sammy feels his stomach turn in revulsion the longer Jack talks, with a voice that keeps breaking in embarrassment. “That’s so much worse than any relationship I’ve ever had, Jack. I’m so sorry, that’s – that’s bullshit. I’m pretty sure you can’t control a migraine, and even if you could – Jesus. I – I would never – _no one _should ever expect that of you.”

“I know that – logically,” Jack opens his eyes again, his mouth twisting self-deprecatingly. Maybe he and Sammy have more in common than Sammy ever thought possible. Sammy’s rational brain is so easy to ignore, too. “But we are at my usual cut-off point for relationships. So. I _absolutely _want you to stay – but only stay if you’re not gonna leave next time. And if you’re not gonna turn into a total creep about it.”

Sammy stares at him, wondering why and how anyone could treat him like that when Jack’s so – when Sammy so badly wants –

“Sorry,” Jack winces when Sammy doesn’t respond. “I realize you’re not actually my boyfriend, even if I want you to be. But you don’t want that, and that’s fine. But it’s the same for friendship too even if you’re not spending the night, I need you to be okay with –”

Sammy turns off all parts of his brain, rational or otherwise, and kisses Jack before he can get another word out.

Jack makes a surprised noise, and he’s lax for a moment before he puts a hand on Sammy’s neck and tentatively kisses back.

“Oh,” the smile in Jack’s voice is clear as they break apart. “That was nice. Did you – did you really mean that?”

“Of course,” Sammy says, entirely too breathless for Jack to be staring him like that, all full of wonder and happiness. His eyes aren’t out of focus anymore.

“When did you change your mind about me?”

Sammy can’t help but laugh. “Like a day after we met. I just couldn’t figure out how to say it. Ben was trying to coach me through it, but he’s all about big romantic gestures that I just – you wouldn’t have liked it anyway, I know.”

Jack laughs a little too, and Sammy doesn’t get insecure when he can hear the strain in it, because Jack’s not feeling well.

“I want you to meet Ben – I’ve been trying to find out how to ask you,” Sammy explains, going for the short version because Jack really should lay down. “When you’re feeling better, you should come over. I want you actually in my life, not just on the outside. And that’s pretty scary for me, but –”

“Okay,” Jack smiles at him, bright despite everything. “I’d really like that. And I’d like you to meet Lily, too. I’d like us to be in each other’s lives. As long as you’re sure – I know I didn’t exactly make the world’s best first impression –”

“I’ve forgotten all about it, Jack. So can I please stay?” Sammy asks, and Jack nods, seemingly pleased if the way his shoulders relax is anything to go by. “I can just sit here and do my readings very quietly, because I’m pretty sure you don’t need noise right now.”

“Yeah,” Jack winces, but he doesn’t stop smiling. “This is sort of a big ask but – its’s criminal that you’re in my room and I can’t actually do anything fun about it, so – do you wanna lay here quietly with me? It’s probably the worst date idea in the world…”

“Best date ever,” Sammy promises him before he even lies down – because of course he says yes. It would be impossible not to say yes to Jack.

* * *

Sammy must’ve fallen asleep at some point, because the next time he opens his eyes, he’s groggy with a dry mouth, and can feel Jack’s arm pressing against his.

He blinks a few times, notices that Jack’s still flat on his back, eyelids twitching every few seconds. Their arms are entirely lined up together, and Jack has a hold of Sammy’s hand that’s tight enough for Sammy to realize that he’s awake.

“Hey,” Jack says softly – shit, Sammy must’ve moved or shifted too much and he noticed.

“Hi,” Sammy whispers, not wanting to cause Jack any unnecessary pain. He shifts his head to look at the clock on Jack’s table – it’s just past six. It’s been a couple hours, then, and Sammy probably won’t sleep much tonight.

Totally worth it, though. Jack cracks an eyelid open and smiles at Sammy without turning his head. He can tell Jack’s happy – maybe almost as happy as Sammy is.

“I didn’t wanna wake you,” Jack says, biting his lip. “I didn’t know if you had any plans tonight but –”

“No plans,” Sammy says, knowing that even if he did they’d be cancelled. “Can I stay a little longer?”

“Well, Lily will be home soon,” Jack says, and even though he’s still smiling, Sammy can see some nervousness hiding there. “But if you really wanna meet her –”

“Yeah, I do,” Sammy says, even though it’s sort of terrifying. Jack’s told stories about her, and he’s pretty sure Lily could potentially eat him alive. Again, it would all be worth it.

Jack bites his lip, the nervousness still present. “Maybe you could invite Ben over, too? We could order dinner, and meet the parents this at the same time.”

“If you’re feeling up to it,” Sammy says, even though he really can’t stop the grin spreading over his face now. “Ben commits noise crimes, he’s not exactly the guy you want around when you have a headache. But I’m pretty sure he’s texted me seventeen times to ask how it’s going, so…”

Jack laughs, quiet but all affection. “I’m feeling alright now, actually. The medication kicked in. I think I’m gonna to take a shower if that’s okay? I’ll probably feel mostly human after that.”

“Sure,” Sammy says, pointedly not thinking about Jack not having any clothes on in the room next to him. Not that he couldn’t think about it, actually. “I’ll call Ben and see if he wants to brave the winter weather.”

He’s pretty sure Ben would want to come even in a blizzard, but he doesn’t need to tell Jack that – Jack can learn that for himself, which he will within ten minutes of meeting Ben.

Jack sits up, cracking his neck, and then leans down –

Oh, Sammy realizes when Jack kisses him. This is going to be something they just _do _now.

He reaches a hand up to the back of Jack’s neck, just to keep him there for a little while longer. Sammy knows he’s going to miss the warmth when Jack goes, even if it’s just down the hall.

Still, Sammy can’t help but feel just as much affection and warmth in his chest when he listens to the shower going. He’s lying in Jack’s bed, which smells like Jack’s cologne, and listening to the water run while Jack showers. It’s beautifully, painfully domestic, and Sammy wants this moment to last forever.

There are nineteen messages from Ben when Sammy finds the presence of mind to open his phone.

He doesn’t read them – too many all caps and exclamation points – and instead just clicks on Ben’s name in his contacts.

“You better be having the time of your life or I’ll be pissed that you didn’t respond,” Ben says in lieu of greeting, but he sounds much more excited than annoyed.

“Something like that,” Sammy chuckles. “I’m at Jack’s apartment right now, and we were just talking about dinner. Do you wanna come over? He’d really like to meet you – and I need some protection against his sister.”

“Really?” Sammy can practically hear Ben light up in joy. “That would be so fun!”

“I’ll text you the address – be careful walking over, okay? It’s icy.”

“Wait a second,” Ben cuts in, accusatory but in a delighted, Ben-like way. “Did you tell him? Are you guys –”

Sammy blushes even though there’s no one in the room with him, and feels his throat thicken with emotion as he says “Um. I kissed him, so I think he got the message.”

Sammy has to literally hold the phone away from his ear, Ben’s hollering is so fucking loud.

“Alright, cut it out!” Sammy complains, even though he’s laughing. “Minus twenty on the volume once you get here, okay? Jack has a migraine.”

“Oh,” Ben’s voice doesn’t go entirely into a whisper, but back to at least a human level. Which is quiet for Ben. “I’ll be quiet, I swear! Only whispers from me. Is Jack alright, though?”

“Somehow,” Sammy sighs. He hopes it’s alright that he takes a little care of Jack, because it’ll be hard to resist the urge. “He came to meet me even though he could feel it coming on because he didn’t wanna disappoint me. I brought him home.”

Ben makes a light squealing noise. “Sorry, sorry, won’t happen once I get there. Only regular human speech for me! But that’s _so _romance. Tell me what happened! Don’t leave out any details!”

For the first time, Sammy’s pretty sure he can follow through on that. 


End file.
